Title: Fighting Another War

Author: CrimsonSnowflake

Warning: None.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Lord of The Rings belongs to J.K Rowling and J.R.R Tolkien, all the copyrights associated with HP and LOTR belongs to them. Only the ideas contained within this story are the property of the author. no profit is being earned by the writer of this story.

A/N: The title says it all! = D

"I have become my own version of an optimist. If I can't make it through one door, I'll go through another door - or I'll make a door. Something terrific will come no matter how dark the present." - Joan Rivers, 1933 -??

Revelations

Secrets.

The whole world was made out of secrets. Lies, manipulations and deceptions. No matter where in the world you went looking it could always be found, not a single corner in the world was without it. Some people earned their living because of it, some lost everything they've ever had, and some despised it but had them anyway, while others relished them, delighted the power it could give them. Secrets were what made the world spin around and no one could escape them. Whether they were the ones that kept them or revealed them they would always, in some way, be caught up in them.

It was unavoidable.

Harry found, as he stared into the stunningly intense eyes of Lady Galadriel that all his secrets were bared before him, being exposed to her against his own will. Every thought, every dream he'd had as he grew up were now within her knowledge, she knew everything about him, some things that even he didn't know. It was all there in her eyes, the small knowledgeable twinkle betrayed her, telling him exactly how much she really knew.

And Harry, who had always kept his secrets locked tightly inside himself, felt true panic well up inside of him, threatening to overtake him, to force him to run away, to hide and not have to face the world. But he couldn't, no matter how much his mind screamed for him to do it; his body was frozen, unmoving as those eyes reeled him in, nearly drowning him. Every moment he had lived through came to life, played like an old movie in front of his eyes. He was confronted by his past, by his parents' death, by Cedric's death and by every bad thing that had ever happened to him. It was terrifying. It was emotional. It was everything Harry had hoped that he wouldn't have to live through.

A tremble rocked his body.

Tears clouded his vision.

His breath came in gasps…

And his heart thumped so loud and fiercely that Harry thought it a wonder that it didn't collapse from exhaustion.

He stumbled back a few steps.

His ears rang with the heartbreaking scream of his mother.

His vision was filled with the image of Gandalf falling…

And his mind was in an uproar, so chaotic, in fact, that he was on the verge of going insane, of losing his mind and falling into the depths of the darkness that haunted him so.

"Gandalf the Grey did not pass the borders of this land." The beautiful she-elf whispered in her melodic voice, looking at Harry as realization seemed to hit her head on. "He has fallen into shadow…"

The whole company fell into an uncomfortable silence as the elves present took in their lady's words. It was a widely known fact that elves weren't used to death, they were immortal, they never became sick, the only way they could die was by an injury and that was a rare occasion, so when something like this happened it was only natural that they didn't know how to handle the situation. For all their knowledge, death was something they just couldn't comprehend. No tears were felled, no anguished faces, only confusion could be seen in their perfect frames.

It would have been nice, Harry mused, to not be able to understand death. If you didn't understand it then that meant that you had never witnessed it, if you hadn't witnessed it then you hadn't felt the pain that came along with it. Harry understood it. Harry had witnessed it and most of all Harry had felt the pain that accompanied it. As a matter of fact, that exact pain was fresh in his heart; Gandalf's death had forced him to once again confront death, to confront everything that arrived with it. He could easily say that elves were some lucky bastards.

Diverting his gaze from that of Galadriel's, he wrapped his right arm around his stomach. Nothing good would come out of lingering on the dark thoughts in his mind, but he found that he couldn't quite keep himself from thinking them, too much had happened at once. He was frantic for a distraction and, unfortunately enough, those gloomy thoughts was the only thing that could keep him from letting the situation, the death, everything, overwhelm him. It was as if thinking negative gave him some sort of vacation from the world around him, allowing him to breathe for a moment, even though it was polluted air he inhaled. He would accept any, any, method just so that he could escape reality. It didn't matter to him anymore.

"Escaping the world isn't something that will help you find your way, Harry Potter." The lady spoke, her beautiful eyes connecting with Harry's in an intense stare.

"Who says I'm trying to escape?" Harry calmly retorted, doing everything in his power to keep his chaotic mind from showing.

"It's all there, in your mind, like an open book for me to read." Galadriel stated, a small smile lingering on her stunning features. "Does that bother you?"

"No not at all." Harry drawled, his voice drenched heavily with sarcasm. "There's nothing I enjoy more than having a stranger mess around in my head."

"Good." She replied, well aware that the young wizard hadn't meant any of the words he had uttered.

With a grace that was unearthly the lady took a step forward, steadily approaching Harry. A delicate hand moved up to caress his face. A low growl, seemingly coming out of nowhere, was issued the moment her skin touched his, resonating through the air. Galadriel immediately retracted her hand and took several steps backwards, only stopping when she was back by her mate's side. A mixture of surprise and satisfaction could be seen on her face as her eyes went from Harry's face and a point behind him. Harry had the strangest feeling that someone in the group was having a face off.

The tension could easily be felt and no one dared to move.

Clenching his hands into tight fists, Harry took a step forward, clearing his throat as he prepared himself to break the silence that had developed between them all only to be halted by an arm wrapping around his waist, dragging him back against a warm, defined chest. A heavy chin settled down on the top of his head, forcing him to tuck the rest of his head into the man's neck. His whole being froze as another growl sounded through the air, rumbling from the man's chest and vibrating through Harry's body. It was clear to everyone in the room that it was a warning to stay away.

Stunned silence joined the tension, making the air so thick that Harry could have sworn that a knife could have cut through it.

"I never knew," Harry spoke as he managed to shake himself out of his stupor. "That I was some cute teddy bear for everyone to cuddle with."

With that he drew his right foot into the air before allowing it to descend with more force than usually, stomping on the man's foot in order to get him to let go. It did nothing more than cause the man to shuffle slightly, not once relenting his grip on the young wizard. A frustrated cry escaped Harry as he violently trashed around, doing everything in his power to get away. In the end he ended up as a flushed, panting mass of flesh.

"Don't." Legolas' voice whispered in his ear, his hot breath washing over his lobe, sending shivers down his spine. "Just let me keep her from touching you again. After that I'll release you."

Green eyes took in the scene before him. Galadriel seemed both amused and weary as if she had known it was going to happen but was unsure of how to act. Celeborn, as regal as ever, had taken a step forward, half shielding his mate behind him as his blue eyes was focused on the two before him. The air was thick with apprehension as the elf behind him waited for his decision with bated breath.

A sigh escaped him as his body relaxed, leaning against Legolas', trusting the elf to keep him steady. "Alright." He relented. "But if you so much as touch anything that shouldn't be touched or say anything that shouldn't be said, I swear I'll push one of the trees around here so far up your ass that you'll never manage to locate it again."

"Of course." The blond replied, seemingly unaffected by the snarled threat.

Leaves rustled as the wind swiftly moved between trees, the forest came to life as animals that usually came out when the darkness crept upon them, crawling out of their hiding places to hunt food, socialize and mate. Owls, which reminded him painfully much about Hedwig, hooted and flew about, now and then diving towards the ground before quickly moving up to the sky again, a rodent clutched in its sharp claws. Nature, it seemed, made herself more known when night fell upon them than in the day when humans, elves and dwarves roamed about. Some would perhaps have called it magical, saying that it wasn't always that you got to experience nature in its fullest.

Maybe they were right, maybe this was one of the best things in life. It really was a shame that Harry couldn't appreciate it as much as he would have liked. His sour mood, which had somehow developed sometime between their meeting and arriving in their camp, seemed to turn everything into something darker; things didn't seem as fantastic as they really were. The sight of him, Harry mused, must have been incredibly pathetic. His hair was matted, strands clinging to each other in layers. Dark circles ran heavily under his eyes, drawing down his whole face. His clothes were stained with both blood and dirt and were shredded to pieces, he was nearly unrecognizable.

"You know, if you're planning on staying out here all night, you really should bring a blanket with you." Boromir's voice rang through the air as the man stepped out of the shadows, a slight smile covering his face as he moved to stand infront of the distraught wizard. "You could risk falling ill."

"I'm fine." Harry answered shortly, a hint of crankiness in his voice as he grimaced at the feeling of dried blood nipping at his skin.

"Really?" The Gondorian questioned, running a glove covered hand through his tangled hair. "You don't seem fine; in fact, I don't think I've ever seen you as troubled as you are now."

"Well, I'm sorry to say that you're wrong." Harry bit back, glaring up at the man as if to prove him wrong with his gaze only. "I'm peachy, can't you see it by the way I'm dancing around in the forest while singing happy songs?"

"Hmm…Oh yes, I can see it now. That's some nice twirls you're doing." The amusement was practically radiating off him as Harry's glare intensified even further. "Seriously, Harry, you should come back to the camp. You need rest just as much as others do, you're not invincible you know."

"I know." Harry stated. "It's just…It's a little cramped at the camp, you know?"

"Don't worry about that, my friend." Boromir replied. "We'll make room for you."

It had seemed like a dream come true the first time he'd seen the beautiful young man that was Harry Potter. Everything inside him seemed drawn to him, jealousy rose from within him every time he saw him with another man, or a woman for that sake. The moment he'd seen him he had become addicted. He had immediately recognized this lovely creature as his mate.

He had pictured a future with Harry, the worry of having to live without him when he died was nonexistent. Harry was a wizard and wizard's had nearly as long a lifespan as elves had, Gandalf was, after all, a proof of that. The long haired elf had been prepared to woo his mate with everything he had and the happenings on top of Caradhras had seemed like a blessing, the feel of his lovely mate's body moving against his own had been heavenly and the sounds he'd made… oh the sounds… but he was getting off track, the point was that Legolas had been every bit prepared to court his mate, to persuade him that he was the one that Harry was meant to be with, he was the one who could bring him eternal happiness, who could love him the way he deserved to be loved. No one else, only Legolas could do that for him.

And yet, he wasn't the one that was comforting him. He wasn't the one that was convincing him to come back to the group and rest. No, the one that was standing across the clearing with his beautiful mate was Boromir, not Legolas, but the man from Gondor. It was excruciating to stand there, his own mind mocking him. How foolish he had been, to think that Harry would realize on his own exactly who he belonged to. He would have to tell him, inform him of how much he loved him, how he longed to hold him in his arms and keep him safe.

A quiet growl escaped him as Boromir wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders, guiding him towards their camp and leaving him utterly alone in the large forest. His original intent of going out in the woods had been to think, to mull over his next move and decide how he was going to win Harry's forgiveness. It had been by pure chance that he had come upon the scene he had just now witnessed and he didn't know whether to be happy about it or not. On one hand it had helped him decide to confront his elusive mate, but it had also led to these aggressive feelings, these feelings that he didn't know how to handle. Legolas had always been proud of being in tune with his emotions, but he had never experienced the negative sentiments that accompanied jealousy. He had, to be frank, no idea of how to control these feelings.

It was as if he was walking blind, relying on his other senses as he walked on a path full of dangers. One wrong step and it could have fatal consequences, one misstep and he could risk losing Harry for eternity. The mere thought was agonizing, it brought a sharp pressure to his heart as if it was threatening to collapse if something like that was to happen. He had heard stories of elves that died when losing their mate. He had heard that losing their love, their one and only brought them so much pain that it was too much for their hearts to take and so it collapsed because of the pressure, the longing. His own father had nearly died because of it, the only thing that had saved him from the darkness was his mother's decision to leave for the gray havens, had she stayed any longer death would have caught up with her, and thusly caught up with his father as well. As an elfling he had wondered how it was that someone could die because of losing their mates, but now, as he was right in the middle of such a situation himself, he could easily understand it.

Legolas would rather die than live without his beloved mate.

Now the only thing he had to do was tell Harry the truth, inform him of what Legolas, Gandalf and Lord Elrond had kept from him for so long. Lady Galadriel's words earlier that evening had only confirmed it. Harry needed him, just as much as Legolas needed Harry, the wizard just hadn't realized it yet. And it was Legolas' responsibility to make him realize it. It was he, and no other, that was going to inform the young wizard of his status, of his place in Legolas' life. It would happen tonight, tonight and not a moment later.

Turning around, he walked back the same way he had come with determined steps, prepared to enter their camp and ask for a moment of Harry's time. Even if he denied him that time he wouldn't give up, it was too important for Harry to know this, if he was denied a moment with his mate then he would have to take a moment of his time. He would not stand idly by and watch as Harry was wooed by another man. He would not accept his own death without fighting and he would be damned before he stopped fighting for Harry. Elves were, despite what other races believed, passionate beings and when they loved someone they loved them with their heart, soul and mind. They mated for life and there was only one person out there for them. Through their long lives love would only manifest in them once and that love was so strong that if they lost it, they didn't have enough love within them to do it again. Legolas swore that his fate would not be the same as so many other elves he had seen. He would win his love, keep his love and nothing was going to keep him away from him.

With a graceful air about him he ducked under a branch, moving closer and closer to the camp until he was, finally, within hearing distance. Unlike their night spent with Haldir and his men the chatter was more animated, the hobbits' laughs could be heard from a long distance as they sat around the fire, talking to each other, joking and raising the mood of the group.

No one seemed to pay much attention to Legolas as he silently walked into the campsite, finding himself a vacant seat beside Aragorn, which, unfortunately, was located as far away from Harry as he could get. The fact that Boromir and Gimli were sitting beside his mate, laughing with him, did nothing to improve his mood. In fact, it only served to encourage him to get the whole ordeal over and done, get Harry away from the two sitting so close to him, at the same time as he got to tell him the truth. Ignoring the strange look sent his way by Aragorn, he rose without hesitation, walking over to Harry before halting right in front of him.

"Would you do me the honor of taking a walk with me?" He questioned, staring straight into Harry's impossibly green eyes.

He was incredibly aware of the danger of his request being turned down, that awareness was even more heightened now that he had asked out loud, for everyone to hear. He, as well as Harry, knew that his humiliation, should he be turned down, would be at its greatest before their companions. To Legolas' great relief the young wizard did nothing but nod before standing up, gesturing for the elf to lead the way.

It seemed as if they had walked for hours when they finally came to a stop, having walked so far that their companions wouldn't be able to hear the words that were to be uttered. Drawing a deep breath Legolas turned to face Harry, allowing his eyes to roam his form for a split second before latching onto his eyes. To be perfectly honest, he had no idea, whatsoever, of what to say. He didn't know where to start and how to form his words in a way that wouldn't create a negative reaction from the young wizard before him. His father had always informed him that people that weren't elves could easily misunderstand what elves understood right away. Different people had different customs, customs that had to be taken into consideration when handling something as important as this.

"You're my mate." Obviously, that wasn't how it was supposed to come out.